


the things we lost in the fire

by Ellisama



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Modern AU, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23352343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellisama/pseuds/Ellisama
Summary: Part of Robin doesn't want to know what has her brave daughter and husband quiver in fear. But the other part can't help but wonder: why do they never answer her when she asks when Morgan is coming home?
Relationships: Chrom/My Unit | Reflet | Robin
Comments: 20
Kudos: 60





	the things we lost in the fire

In the morning, the first thing he always whispers is: “How much do you remember?”

Sometimes she smiles and recounts a conversation, though never everything they spoke about. Those are the best days, but they’re rare. Most days Robin just stares at him strangely, confused why anyone would ask that first thing. It generally isn’t until noon that she realizes that her memory has more holes than a strainer, and her smiles grow forced.

He hates having to ask that question time and again, and the inevitable pain that realization causes her. But not as much as he despises the car accident that took most of his wife’s short term memory, and with it so much more. 

But life goes on, and to be honest, the days where he doesn’t even get to ask that question are worse. 

Today, thank the Gods, is not one of those days, and while Robin doesn’t remember the dinner they shared last night, at least she isn’t crying _his_ name either. Nor does she remember the tears he shed yesterday.

It's a new dawn, and there is still so much to live for. With a strength Chrom doesn’t know where he summons it from, he sets down her breakfast, smiles and asks her the same old question he’d been asking her for the past year: "How much do you remember?" 

-

Lucina starts her days more often than not in Aunt Lissa’s spare bedroom. Ever since she was a child, she liked sleeping over at Owain’s, who was an only child and had a room all to himself while she had to share hers with Morgan. Her brother, who never wandered or stayed out late, always hanging around her, annoyed her while she wanted to study or spend some time on her own, crying for their mother the second she raised her voice and told him to mind his own business.

After the accident, she stays over for entirely different reasons. Every morning she thanks Lissa for her hospitality, swearing she won’t return tonight. Saying this will be the last time, that she doesn't need a key. But more often than not she ends up in front of their door somewhere between her bedtime and the end of Lissa’s evening shift in the hospital. They always let her in, and she is grateful.

Her house is not a home anymore. How could it be, when all she can see is the ghost of her mother look at her with questions she cannot answer? Lucina loves her mother, she really does, but while she was a daddy's girl, Morgan always took after mom. It was annoying when they were young and he would always run to her to get his way, but now she avoids meeting her mother's eyes for entirely different reasons. The resemblance is uncanny to the point of pain. 

Morgan was always walking in her shadow, crying for her the second she did anything he didn’t like or understand. Now, their shared room is quiet, and she wishes nothing more than to hear his voice again. In her dreams, her wish is granted but only in the form of a twisted, bodiless scream, and then nothing at all. 

Most nights, Lucina doesn’t sleep at all.

-

Contrary to what her husband thinks, Robin is not stupid. Sure, her memory is faulty at best, but the car accident didn’t harm her intellect. She can tell that her daughter is avoiding her, even if Chrom will always cover Lucina’s absences with a sweet lie or two. When Lucina _does_ stay home long enough to share breakfast with them in the morning, there is a tension in the air that no kind words can cut through. There is something they’re hiding from her, and it’s not hard to see that it eats at them alive. How much longer until there is nothing left but their bare-bones, and the skeleton in the closet?

Part of Robin doesn't want to know what has her brave daughter and husband quiver in fear. But the other part can't help but wonder, why do they never answer her when she asks when Morgan is coming home again?

-

Death, to his great surprise, is not the end of life. It’s the end of a heartbeat, of a body to call your own, but the soul is persistent. When their car crashed a glass shard from the window pierced straight through his heart, arteries and lungs. He remembered fear, panic and a great amount of pain enveloping him first. He remembers Lucina's screaming, his own broken cries until he ran out of air and time, and it all faded to black. _This is the end,_ he thought, but it wasn’t.

When he came to, his mother didn’t recognize him. He screamed at her, yelled until he ran out of words, but she didn't even acknowledge he was there. 

Instead, she asked his father questions about mundane things, as if the left part of her face wasn’t damaged beyond repair, and with it her memory. And his father never looked at him either. He would just smile, smile and smile. 

Only when his mother was cloaked deep in blissful sleep did his father’s smile wavers and his tears fall as if Morgan wasn’t there. He longs to wrap his arms around him, but no matter how many kind words he speaks to his father, Chrom won't listen. Not even Lucina heeds his words, crying out his name in his pillow until her voice is hoarse. Morgan sits next to her on those rare nights she doesn't disappear, holding a lonely vigil.

He knows now that the living cannot take everything with them into death. His soul survived, but not all of his memories or awareness. It wasn't until the day of his own quiet funeral that he managed to gather enough of him to realize that he was dead, that it was his body being lowered into the grave. He is dead, yet doomed to exist and watch his family wither away a little more with every passing day. 

When will it end? Will he too stop to exist one day? Or is this his personal hell? No-one will answer his question, because no-one can hear the call of a frightened dead little boy.

Whoever said that death was merciful was oh so very wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes... sometimes you need to write whump to cope. Sorry!


End file.
